


Destiel Oneshots

by gh0st1nn1t



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Everyones fine, Injured Castiel (Supernatural), Injured Dean Winchester, Just a little injured, M/M, Major Character Injury, They all survive though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0st1nn1t/pseuds/gh0st1nn1t
Summary: Dean messes up on a hunt and gets both him and Cas injured.But the time they spent together patching each other up made it all worth it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Destiel Oneshots

**Author's Note:**

> Possible content warnings :  
> \- Major Character Injury  
> -Blood  
> -Injuries in detail  
> -Me bullshitting my way through this despite having no knowledge of healing injuries
> 
> After getting injured on a hunt, Dean and Cas patch each other up.

"Dean Winchester, you are absolutely stupid.”

"Stupid for the right reasons, though," And there was that stupid, lop-sided grin that made Cas go weak at the knees. Well, technically, Cas was sat down, so the knee thing wasn't an issue, but whatever.

The two of them were sat cross-legged on the motel bed, facing each other, with a duffel bag beside Dean and a bowl of water by Cas. The lights were flicking, but for non-supernatural reasons, the motel was just shabby and cheap. The shower was coated in grime and the bathroom sink was jammed. The minifridge for the bottles of alcohol also didn't work, meaning they had to stuff the beers in with the other stuff.

He only sighed, proceeding to carefully wash off the blood from Dean's forehead. Most of it was dried anyway, so it wasn't too bad, but there was a  _ lot _ of it. It was coming from a nasty cut just above his right eyebrow, and some of it had dripped into his eye, which he had wiped away and promptly smeared it across the side of his face. 

"Why did you charge in?" Cas began making conversation as he soaked the rag with fresh water, before returning to tending to the head wound. He had been right outside the door, waiting for the cue, but instead, he crept in and saw Dean mid-fight with about a dozen vampires. To be fair, he was putting up one hell of a fight. He leant back as the blood from Dean's head was washed off. Dean's eye was twitching, despite it being shut, due to the freezing cold water trickling over his eyelid.

"Damn it, Cas, that's cold!" Dean complained as the freezing cold water of the rag dripped down his torso. After receiving a bitchface from Cas, he finally began answering the question he had been given, "They were just about to go and get another vic. Couldn't let that happen," Dean shrugged absentmindedly, ignoring the soft smile Cas gave him in return. Cas thought Dean just wanted a fight, but in reality, he was saving someone? Definitely a Winchester.

"Arm," Cas demanded. Dean understood, sticking out his arm for Cas to tend to. There was a nasty gash across his forearm, courtesy of some vamp using his machete against him, and his knuckles were considerably bruised. "Stitches?" He asked simply. Dean shook his head. Cas grabbed the butterfly strips from the duffel bag. 

Cas never really spoke in full sentences if he didn't have to. If there was some way of conveying his thoughts using minimal words, he would do it. Dean was somehow able to understand him when he spoke only a few words. Like how he understood "Stitches?" was an alternative to saying "Do you want stitches or butterfly strips?". It had been confusing at first, but he had gotten used to it eventually.

The two sat in comfortable silence as Cas carefully applied the strips around the wound, holding it shut with the strips. After Cas had finished with the gash on Dean's arm, he turned to his battered knuckles. Dean understood, placing his hands on the bed between them, letting Cas hold two ice packets over the bruises.

"You should have waited for me," Cas spoke quietly, refusing to admit how troubled he was for his partner. It wasn’t uncommon for Cas to be worried for him, as Dean was one of the most reckless, if not **_the_** _most reckless_ , a person he knew. Dean met his eyes, giving him that stupid grin again.

"Worried 'bout me, Cas?" 

Cas looked up at him, smiled slightly, and then returned to the wounds. He removed the icepacks and began wrapping elastic bandages around his bruised knuckles. "You have a chunk of vamp in your hair," he muttered amusedly, watching as Dean shook his head around like a dog to remove it since both of his hands were being wrapped. By some miracle, it had flown out and landed in the bin beside the bed. 

"Gross," he muttered, giving Cas a grateful smile as he finished with the bandages, making sure they weren’t loose enough to fall off at any given moment. They may have been a bit tight, but he didn’t mind. "Alright, now you. Arm."

"Dean, I am fine," Cas argued, despite the wound on his bicep still bleeding through the fabric of his dress jacket. The trenchcoat had been discarded a while ago, as Cas didn’t want to stain it with blood.

"Cas," Dean insisted.

"Dean."

After a simple eyebrow raise from Dean, Cas huffed and shrugged off the overcoat, discarding the tie and unbuttoning the shirt so he could slip his left arm out of it. He extended it towards Dean, who grasped it and began wiping away the blood.

"Jeez, Cas, they got you good, huh?" Dean smirked at Cas, who mirrored the expression. A long scratch went from his shoulder to his inner elbow. He quickly wrapped it in bandages before standing up and stretching. “I’ll put the stuff away,” he began packing the medical supplies away.

Dean gestured to his other bag with a nod, “Go put on a new shirt, that one’s covered in blood,” He didn’t look at Cas as he spoke, but he heard Cas walking over to it. It didn’t take long before all of the things were stuffed into the medical bag and shoved back into the trunk of Baby.

When Dean came back in, Cas was laying on the bed, dressed in one of Dean’s vintage faded rock shirts and baggy sweatpants. He had his head on the pillow, hair spilling out over the white fabric, and he looked to be half-asleep. 

“Tired?” Dean asked, locking the door behind him as he grabbed some pyjamas to change into. 

“Mm,” Cas replied simply, still laying down.

“I’ll get changed, then we can sleep, promise,” Dean gave him a forehead kiss as he walked past.


End file.
